


First Time

by SegaBarrett



Category: Hell on Wheels (TV)
Genre: Backstory, F/M, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-23
Updated: 2013-09-23
Packaged: 2017-12-27 09:38:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/977249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SegaBarrett/pseuds/SegaBarrett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elam's first time is different than his last.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Time

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Hell on Wheels and I make no money from this.
> 
> Warning: Mentions of historical slavery.
> 
> A/N: Written for kink bingo square "virginity/celibacy".

Elam had heard rumors of it on the plantation. Hushed whispers, with lots of looking over the rumor-spreader’s shoulder, because if they got found out, it would no doubt end horribly for them. But he heard them nonetheless and didn’t know quite what kind of conclusion to draw from it. That his master’s son – technically, his half-brother if he really wanted to go there, and most of the time Elam would not – was bringing men back to his bedroom in the big white house and doing… things with them. Things that were frowned upon by God and the rest of society.  
It was one of those secrets that was known by everyone except those who really ought to know it, and the master and his wife were both blissfully ignorant, bringing their son beautiful southern belles to court. Those poor girls had all left the place wondering what they’d done wrong.

Elam could have told ‘em if they had wanted to hear it, but he was pretty sure that they didn’t.

Apart from knowing that James Ferguson was at all times a hair’s-breadth away from getting disinherited and thrown out into the cold on his lily white ass, Elam didn’t really concern himself with the whole matter much. He had more important things to worry about.  
Namely, Phoebe. 

Phoebe had long, curly black hair and a pretty smile, even when there was nothing to smile about. She lived on the next plantation over but Elam had caught a glimpse of her once or twice, when he’d gotten sent over there relaying some message or another.

He couldn’t stop thinking about her. When he went to bed at night, he prayed that they could find a way to be together… but later at night his thoughts were usually a lot less pure.  
He’d have to find a way to get her alone, a way to get…

There were so many more important things, like getting out of this horrendous life of his, of being free… so why were thoughts of a pretty girl always so forefront in his mind? Maybe that was just easier. Maybe that was more attainable than freedom, which would be so much sweeter but so much more unimaginable, too. Something that would never happen.  
While a night with Phoebe was something that would just probably never happen.

Until Elam got his chance. He’d walked down the road with a note in hand that he could understand perfectly but of which he had made a big show of only understanding a word or two.  
After the note in question passed hands, he began to look around for Phoebe. Hopefully he’d catch just a glimpse of her. 

And then one perfect curl caught his eye. It was her.

***

They were behind a tree, trying to stay oh-so-quite so that no one would hear. So that no one would intrude upon this moment, Elam’s perfect moment. The day when he’d pass into becoming a man. He’d walk taller after this. He’d change after this. Maybe he’d be just a little tougher, a little more defiant, a hair’s breadth closer to being free.

He touched her thigh and pulled her closer to him, pulled her down on him and felt the tight heat as he threw his head back and closed his eyes. No one had ever gotten closer to Heaven than this. 

***

“You ain’t never…?”

Elam looked up. Cullen Bohannon was asking him something, a question that Elam was trying with all his energy to not answer. How he had even gotten to this, he didn’t know.

“What do you think, Bohannon? You think I do this kind of thing… you think I look like that kind of person?”

Elam thought back to his master’s son and his barely-hidden indiscretions. No, Elam wasn’t that kind of man. He wasn’t about to lay down for a bunch of men and not even care if anyone found out about it. The only reason he was right here, right now, was because he knew Cullen Bohannon was not going to tell a soul. He might be Elam’s first, this way at least, but there was never going to be another.

There might not have even been this, except for the fact that he was so damned furious at Eva that he didn’t know what else to do. He’d come to Cullen and they’d started drinking and… Elam should know by now that nothing good could have come of this.

But as Cullen pressed his light pink lips to Elam’s dark ones, he was surprised to find that this actually seemed very good indeed. It must have been the whiskey. This was not him. This was not the kind of thing he did.

When their kiss broke, Cullen cocked his head to the side and gave a shrug.

“Do you think I look like that kind of person, Elam?” he shot back.

“I don’t know what you look like,” Elam argued back, but he was losing ground as Cullen leaned in and ground his hips against his own. “What about you? You ever done this before?”

“Yeah, once or twice.” Elam waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. He supposed he really would rather not know. But maybe it was good that at least the other man knew what the hell he was doing. 

His fingers were slick as he reached down to touch Elam. He quivered under the touch. It was so new, so different, that it didn’t seem like it should be right. Things were happening so fast.  
He hadn’t felt inexperienced that first time, with Phoebe, but now… he might as well be a lamb or something, because this was going way over his head and into select other parts of his body he didn’t want to think about.

Cullen’s lips were on his again, and then he was in… oh God, point of no return, he was in. Elam let out a grunt and rocked his hips, trying to get the pain out, the tightness out, but somehow it was good too. It was good even though it shouldn’t be…

Elam remembered that first time, hiding behind the tree, trying to be quiet. Now he couldn’t be. He bit his lip but the grunts still rolled out, the gasps still lit up the room.

Phoebe had been about becoming a man, this… this was about… what was this about? People had kept asking whether Elam was Cullen’s man… trying to figure out whether he owned him somehow.

Elam was never going to be owned again. He refused.

But maybe he’d let Cullen borrow his heart awhile. And the rest of him too. 

He rolled back his head and groaned.

“Is that good, Elam? You want some more?”

Cullen thrust back in again. Maybe he could get used to this. 

“You’re askin’ a stupid question, Bohannon. Ain’t I making it obvious enough? Now shut up and fuck me.”

So long as he was still the one calling the shots, of course.


End file.
